Who Said Anything About Intelligence?
by Gabs
Summary: TOTAL AU. Irina is running a new organization, the PKz 'Intelligence' Directorate, along with the PKz: The PsYcHoKillerZ. Parody-ish.
1. I'll Be In Touch

This is a weird little thing that's not really an Alias fic. The only Alias characters who are going to be main players in this are Irina (my hero!) and Sark, though I'm sure others will be making appearances. Also, there are references to many WWE wrestlers, and they'll be putting in appearances as well. For some reason, I suddenly decided that perhaps someone else might actually want to read this, so I'm posting it. 

Who Said Anything About Intelligence?

A PKz Productionz Tale by PK Gabs

PKz 'Intelligence' Directorate- Main Headquarters

Los Angeles, California

11 AM; Sunday, 31 August

Heads of Directorate Meeting

Irina Derevko stood at the front of the room and looked at her two comrades. Gabrielle Hardy-Van Dam-Moore-Michaels looked relaxed in her black and blue swivel chair. Her co-head of operations, Demon Hardy-Copeland, looked much more prepared and on alert as she sat attentively in her chosen black leather seat. When Gabrielle finally stopped spinning, Irina spoke.

"As you two well know, we have recently come across a new rival. The Warcat Syndicate has shown itself on four of our last six missions. As you know, Agent Jericho nearly lost her mission and her life two weeks ago." A picture of PK Harley Jericho, top field agent and Gabrielle's number one operative, appeared on screen. "Prior to that, Agent Bloom had a run-in with this Syndicate." The image of Harley was replaced by a shot of PK Monica Bloom, Demon's number one operative. "And now, Agent Bristow and Agent Derevko have had to change a mission due to Warcat interference." As always, a raised eyebrow from Irina accompanied the mention of the agents. Gabrielle and Demon had supplied the names of the two whose pictures next appeared- Agent Griffin Bristow, whom Gabrielle had re-dubbed, and Agent Dragon Derevko, renamed by Demon. No one else knew what or who they had been before the PKz transformed them. Irina didn't care; they were two of her best operatives, and rarely failed. 

Lightly brushing one errant strand of hair behind her ear, Irina continued. "Now, however, there has been a break- one of our allies has taken prisoner a Warcat operative. I believe you're both familiar with Mr. Sark?" A shot of the handsome young British assassin came up. "He has graciously agreed to allow us full, unrestricted interrogation of this rogue agent." Gabrielle perked up. "When?" Irina smiled. "Today."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Gabrielle and Demon walked down the hall, headed for Irina's office. Sark was scheduled to arrive soon and with him, the prisoner. 

"So Harley will be back on missions this week?" Demon asked. Gabrielle nodded. 

"Yup. And she is gunning for Warcat." Demon grinned. Just then, Gabrielle's cell phone rang. She let it go for a moment, enjoying the ring tone, before pulling it out of her pocket. 

"Gabs here." Demon watched her, attempting to discern who it was. She finally gave up, choosing to wait for Gabs to tell her. A moment later, she hung up and dropped the phone back into her pocket. Demon stared at her intently. 

"Wha-? Oh. It was… well, Lita." Demon reached for her partner's ID badge.

"Hardy… Van Dam… Moore… Michaels… I don't seem to see any 'Dumas' on here…" she noted, absently rapping a table as they passed. Gabs looked about ready to put Demon through that table, until the door to Irina's office opened. She shot them a warning look, then motioned the duo in. 

Mr. Sark sat there, looking comfortable but highly professional, as always. Gabs and Demon took two vacant spots, and Irina seated herself behind her meticulously organized desk. She fixed a stare on her two associates. 

"Gabrielle, Demon, Mr. Sark has placed the prisoner in PK custody. She is downstairs now, awaiting interrogation." Gabs nodded, took a moment to remember Irina's request for professionalism, and then spoke. 

"Well, that reeks of excellence." Demon nodded in agreement. 

"Totally." Irina shut her eyes and took a deep breath; Sark's eyebrows lifted simultaneously. 

A moment later, Irina opened her eyes and smiled pleasantly, causing Gabs and Demon to share an insecure look. 

"Right," Irina said lightly. She continued to look at her younger partners for a moment, until a look of understanding dawned on each of their faces. 

"You mean… you wanted US to do the interrogation?" Irina nodded shortly. 

"I certainly thought it fell under your collective realm." Sark frowned, hearing her place an emphasis on the word 'thought.' Gabs twitched slightly; Demon's eyes narrowed. At that moment, the door opened, admitting Harley and Monica. They nodded to Sark and Irina in turn, then moved to stand behind Gabs and Demon. Irina continued speaking.

"Is there a problem with you two conducting the interrogation?" Suddenly, neither Gabs nor Demon could meet Irina's eyes. 

"Well?" Gabs finally looked up. 

"Well… we kinda had some other plans going on," she said hesitantly. Sark, Harley and Monica all looked to Irina for her response. 

"Other plans? Such as…?" All eyes now went back to Gabs and Demon, who exchanged glances. 

"Uh… we're sorta scheduled to go… um… hide with Jeff and Edge…" Everyone, including Irina, looked impossibly confused at this statement. 

"Hide?" Sark said dubiously. 

"Are you guys seriously going to skip out on an interrogation just to go play hide and seek?" Harley questioned. 

"It's not even dark out yet!" Monica added. Irina simply continued to stare at them. 

"Thank you, Agent Jericho, Agent Bloom," Gabs said sharply. 

"We're not going to play hide and seek. We're going to… well, hide," Demon stated. They each looked both defensive and belligerent. Irina's tapping of a pencil on the wood of her chair brought them both stiffly to attention. Sark marveled at the sudden change, and pondered about what brought it on. In most cases, he would presume- correctly so- that Irina was the source. But his knowledge of the PKz, though slightly limited, caused him to wonder if it wasn't just the tapping. They were certainly strange enough. He decided to test the theory, and lightly tapped his own pencil on the chair. This earned him only a glare from Demon. He shrugged to himself, then turned to look at Irina. Her glance swept from him to Harley and Monica.

"If you three would excuse us for a moment…" Sark nodded courteously. 

"Of course. We'll be right outside." He stepped out, followed by the other two. There was a moment of quite, indistinguishable talk in the office, followed by an uncharacteristically loud outburst from Irina. 

"What??" Her voice dropped to it's normal level, and again they heard nothing from inside. After a short conversation, Irina's voice carried out. 

"Thank you, Mr. Sark, Agent Bloom, Agent Jericho. You may come back in now." Sark led the way and resumed his previous seat. As Monica and Harley walked back to where they had been, he took a look at Gabs and Demon. They each held a suitably repentant look, though there was also a lingering hint of humor on each of their faces. He frowned curiously, then turned his attention to Irina, who had regained her normal composure. 

"Will the Agents Hardy be carrying on the interrogation?" He was stopped by Gabs, clearing her throat loudly. He glanced over to meet a death glare from Demon and a psychotic glint in Gabs' eyes. Sark forced himself to remain calm. 

"My apologies if I offended, PKz." They each held up a hand, though Sark noted that neither had all 5 fingers up. Sark looked at them in exasperation. 

"Excuse me, I seem to have missed something." Gabs nodded sharply. From the corner of his eye, Sark noted that Irina had leaned back and was watching in slight annoyance.

"Pray tell what mistake I might have made?" Sark said to Gabs and Demon.

"First of all, no praying. Second, the names, dude." He raised an eyebrow at Gabs' reply. 

"What mistake have I made in your names, Agent Hardy?" She shot him a glare. 

"I'm not just Agent Hardy. It's Agent Hardy-Van Dam-Moore-Michaels." An obvious look of surprise crossed Sark's face as he looked to Demon. 

"And you?" he questioned. 

"Agent Hardy-Copeland, thank you very much!" He looked from one to the other, trying to gauge their seriousness. Deciding they weren't kidding, he nodded slightly. 

"Well, what say we skip the formalities from now on? I shall simply call you Gabrielle and Demon." They nodded. 

"Works for us. We're off to tortu… uh, interrogate the Warcat now." Sark watched them leave, followed by Harley and Monica. 

"Dare I ask what their reference to 'hiding' was about?" Irina sighed lightly. 

"Suffice to say, it has nothing to do with hide and seek, but everything to do with their long list of names." Sark's face paled slightly, but he kept his cool. 

"Interesting, though I can't say I really wished to know that." He stood. 

"It has been a most enlightening experience, as always. Thank you, Irina. Do pass my regards on to Agents… to Gabrielle and Demon, as well as the rest of PKz 'Intelligence' Directorate. I look forward to working with you again." Irina nodded to him. 

"Thank you Mr. Sark. I'll be sure to be in contact as soon as the Warcat agent cracks."

Ok, so what I need from all of you is reviews! Not just cuz I love them so vurry vurry much, but because I need to know if there's any point in updating anymore. So tell me: should I continue to post every single word we write, for this fic at least? Or should I just never ever again even consider posting this here? Thanks for reading!


	2. She Cracked?

Who Said Anything About Intelligence?  
A PKz Productionz Tale by PK Gabs and PK Demon

The PKz entered a dark room that held only one light, which shone over the head of the captive. The captive stared gloomily at the floor as the PKz stepped to either side of her. Demon slammed her hands on the table in front of the captive, causing her to jump and look around. Demon stared at her with unblinking red slitted eyes and grinned when she squirmed in her chair. 

"Alright, here's the deal. You tell us what we want to know, and you don't get hurt…too much. Got it?" Demon told the Warcat. She stared dumbly at the PKz. "What's your name and organization?" Demon asked. The captive remained silent, a stupid look on her face. "You better tell us what we want to know or…" Demon paused and looked at Gabs. "Quick, give me something," Demon whispered. Gabs pulled out a piece of glass from her pocket and handed it to Demon, who gave her a strange look. Gabs just shrugged and Demon turned back to the captive. "Or else we put this piece of glass in your mouth and break it." 

"Huh?" The captive asked, with that stupid look still on her face.

"Er.." Demon said as she tossed the piece of glass aside, which smashed to pieces once it hit the wall. "Ok, then. If you don't tell us what we want we'll…nail your hands to this table and tear your fingernails out!" Demon declared.

The captive continuted to look at Demon with that stupid expression. Demon growled. "If you don't tell us what we want to know…" Demon started, pausing to ponder other methods of torture.

"We'll beat you with a pillow!" Gabs interjected vehemently.

The captive's eyes grew wide. "I'll tell you everything about us! Just don't hurt me!"

The PKz glanced at each other then shrugged their shoulders. "Your name and organization?" Demon asked.

"I'm… Morgan Cox of the Warcat Syndicate," she replied quickly.

"Who are your superiors and what are their positions?" Gabs asked, brandishing a pillow that Demon had pulled from her bag.

"Emera Corwin, Head of Operations, and Bonnie Hunter, Head of Intelligence." Morgan stammered almost inaudibly.

"Other high ranking field operatives?" Gabs asked again as Demon wrote down her responses.

"Michelle DeMers and Zorrina Irwin," Morgan replied, her wide eyes carefully watching the pillow in Gabs' hands. 

"Location of your headquaters?"

Morgan looked at the floor and failed to respond to Gabs' question, until Gabs brandished the pillow toward her menacingly. "Norwell, Massachusetts and…" Morgan paused, staring at the pillow in fear.

"And?" Gabs asked impatiently.

"And…Beerwha, Australia," Morgan responded.

"Did she say Beer Wall?" Demon asked, with a confused look on her face.

"No, Beer Hall," Gabs told Demon.

"You sure its not Beer Mall?" Demon asked.

"It's Beer-WHA!" Morgan exclaimed.

"Oh." Demon said and wrote it down.

Gabs turned back to the victim. "Do you have any allies?"

"Just the Innocent Daisy le Crush." Morgan quickly replied.

"No one's innocent." Demon muttered as she wrote the name down. "Do we need anything else?" Demon asked her fellow PK.

"Ummm, nope. Not that I'm aware of." Gabs replied.

"Ok," Demon said, putting the paper in her pocket as she rose to leave. Gabs moved toward the door but paused when she saw a grin flash across the Demonic One's face. 

"Wha?" She asked. Demon pulled out another pillow and glanced at Morgan, who was wide eyed with fear. Gabs grinned in response and joined Demon who had begun hitting Morgan with the pillow. Morgan screamed in agony while the PKz laughed maniacally. They bored quickly, however, and left the room to report to Irina.

They exited the lower levels of the PKz 'Intelligence' Directorate headquarters, and took the elevator upstairs towards Irina's main office. Just as they reached the door, Demon stopped. 

"Wait!" she exclaimed. Gabs looked at her curiously. "What?" Demon looked at her empty hands. 

"I forgot the paper!" Gabs sighed. 

"Let's go back and get it." They turned around and headed back to the elevator. After passing through the security room, they headed for the interrogation chamber they had been using for theWarcat. Demon reached into her pokcet to grab the key, and paused again. She glanced at Gabs, who raised an eyebrow. Demon grinned sheepishly.

"Found it," she said, pulling a piece of paper out of her pocket. They turned around and headed back for the elevators, again passing through the security clearance room. The PKz moved in silence down the hall to Irina's office. The duo found her waiting expectantly.

"She cracked, I presume?" Gabs nodded, prompting Irina to smile.

"These people are dangerous. With a capital A," Gabs said seriously. Irina gave her a strange look. 

"Capital… never mind. You say they are dangerous. How so?" Gabs and Demon exhanged glances, not sure how to break the news. Irina raised an eyebrow impatiently.

"Well? What is it? Do they have nuclear weapons?" Demon snorted.

"Hardly."

"A Rambaldi artifact that we desperately need?"

"I doubt it," Gabs said.

"Means of creating flesh-eating diseases?" Gabs and Demon laughed.

"Large stores of biological weapons?"

"Well, that would be fun, but no," Gabs noted.

"An exceptional collection of firepower?"

"I hope not. But if they do, I'm gonna add it to my collection," Demon stated.

"What is it??" Irina demanded, obviously growing more annoyed.

"They are unbelievably stupid. This stupidity, we believe, will lead to them being reckless and dangerous. Going against them would be a high risk maneuver." Gabs and Demon exchanged looks. 

"Let's do it!"

Reviews! I'm begging you! I wanna know if anyone's actually READING this, much less enjoying it. Talk at us, please!


	3. Speed Limits?

Who Said Anything About Intelligence?  
A PKz Productionz Tale by PK Gabs and PK Demon

Los Angeles, California

10:30 AM; Monday, 1 September

Irina Derevko kept her eyes focused on the road, but allowed her mind to drift. She wondered- not for the first time ever- if her associates would be awake this early. Their unusual sleeping habits tended to make it more complicated to maintain the Directorate's cover as a lead manufacturer of tables, ladders, and chairs. Irina frowned slightly; she still didn't know where the duo had developed that cover. A moment later, she became aware of something out of the ordinary: a pair of cars had pulled even with her own dark BMW. The thing that made it truly unusual was the fact that she was driving on a 2-lane street- one of the cars was riding the sidewalk, the other was on the wrong side of the road. Still watching where she was going, Irina attempted to discern who was shadowing her: enemy, ally, or just two crazy people. As the driver's side window of the blue Banshee on the sidewalk began rolling down, Irina sighed. If she was correct, they weren't enemies.

They were allies of the crazy persuasion.

She turned her attention to the black Infernus on the other side of the road. The darkly tinted passenger window was coming down. Irina looked back to the road, then over to the Banshee. It's top had been down and now, so was the window. She sighed as Gabrielle's blue and green hair came into view. A moment later her left hand, with multi-colored nails, came out as well, as Gabs started waving wildly. Irina briefly contemplated putting her windows up, but thought better of it. She glanced to the Infernus to see Demon waving at her now. Turning back to the road ahead, Irina wondered why everyone was so afraid to drive with them. With the notable exception of driving in areas not generally recommended, they didn't seem to be bad drivers.

A moment later, Gabs frowned and turned to her radio. Irina's eyes widened slightly. Gabs' left hand was still out the window, waving, while her right hand and her eyes were firmly on the radio. Irina quickly turned back to the road.

"Perhaps if I don't see it…" she mused. She then glanced over to see Demon still watching her and waving. Looking at the street ahead, Irina grimaced. A motorcycle was heading right for the Infernus. She began pointing frantically. Demon frowned briefly and began imitating her, then followed the path of her own arm. Her eyes widened and she returned her hand to the steering wheel. She yanked it, and the Infernus careened into the bushes. Irina frowned as the motorcycle whizzed by safely.

"Well, I've evidently lost one of my co-directors." She looked over to see Gabs finally turn away from the radio. A look of confusion flashed across her face as she noted Demon's absence. She lifted both hands in a shrug and then looked at the path ahead for what seemed like the first time since her arrival. Suddenly, Demon's Infernus came flying over a ridge and landed - again- on the wrong side of the road.

"No such luck," Irina sighed, rethinking her earlier statement. A moment later, the PKz sped up. Shocked, Irina looked down at her speedometer. 

"I'm doing 80 in a 40 zone! They've got to be doing 120!" She shook her head, understanding now why so many were afraid to drive within ten miles of them.

A few minutes later, Irina arrived at the PKz Headquarters in LA. Pulling into the parking garage of the TLC Building, she showed her ID to the guard. Parking, she once again found herself between the black Infernus and the blue Banshee. Now, however, the owners of those particular vehicles were nowhere to be seen. Ever suspicious, Irina locked her car and put the alarm on before getting into the garage elevator. It stopped at the 4th floor, where the PKz Directorate Headquarters began. The first 3 floors were each dedicated to maintaining their cover company. The 4th and 5th floor, as well as the secret level below the garage, were all PKz 'Intelligence.'

Irina cleared the security room and headed down the hall towards her office. She paused to look into Gabrielle's office, noting that her computer and lava lamp were both on, and her blue and green Christmas lights- referred to, by her, as all year lights- were casting a strange glow that emanated into the hall. But Gabs herself wasn't there. Irina looked across the hall to Demon's office. The only light from that room was produced by the computer, which was a fairly frequent occurrence, even if Demon was there. At that moment, she wasn't. 

Irina stepped into her office just long enough to flip on the computer and a normal office light before heading to the conference room. There she found Gabrielle, Demon, Harley, Monica, and an unexpected guest- Sark. Harley was relating to him the details of her last mission, when she had fallen victim to the Warcat Syndicate. Unnoticed by any of them, Irina stood at the door and listened.

"So, I was at the 14th damn antique shop of that day alone, and those Lithuanian's weren't speaking a whole lot of English. I was about ready to give up when something caught my eye- there, on the bottom shelf. It was a picture of Marilyn Monroe, and I knew my mom would like it. So I picked it up. But as I was leaving to go the next antique shop on my 32-page list, I bumped into something. A tea cup fell, but I managed to catch it. I was about to put it back, but something about it made me look again. It took me quite a few minutes, but I finally realized what I was looking at- a cup from the Rambaldi tea set that Irina wanted so badly! I was about to grab the rest when some girl pushed in front of me and took it. She noticed that I had the 4th tea cup, and asked me to hand it over. I said I couldn't, and came up with a cover story about how I worked for a very wealthy but eccentric person, and they had to have that particular set. She, however, said it was the prettiest one there, and she wanted it. Obviously, I wasn't about to give it up- I had just spent a week wandering Europe, through France and Germany and England and Ireland and Sweden and lots of other places where I couldn't really speak the language, and I finally had the damn tea set. I pointed out a few others, but she didn't like them, said they just weren't shiny enough. I swear, she reminded me of Gabs. Anyway, I continued trying to distract her with other sets, but she kept saying no. Finally, I pointed at something else and, when she was distracted, dropped her into the Walls of Jericho. Tried to, anyway. As I was turning her, she smashed the Marilyn Monroe picture's frame over my head. While I was trying to recover, she tossed me through the window, and made off with the tea set- except for that one cup I managed to hold on to." 

Sark nodded, then asked a logical question. "What makes you so sure it was a Warcat operative?" Monica fielded that question.

"When she was trying to turn her over into the Walls of Jericho, she saw a pendant around the girl's neck. It was a 'kung-fu kitty' with a sword in it's mouth- the known logo of the Warcat Syndicate. I was on comm's- no Gabs, not commies- for that mission, so I heard it all." Sark nodded again, and looked at them curiously.

"So what you're telling me is that you went all over Europe, culminating in Lithuania, to find a tea set for Irina?" Gabs raised an eyebrow. 

"First of all, it's the *Rambaldi* tea set. Second, what Irina wants, we get." Smiling, and knowing they'd be done soon, Irina turned and headed for her office- and missed the end of the conversation.

"Even when we DO believe she just wants the tea set to decorate her own house, wherever that may be," Demon added. It was Sark's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Oh really?" Just then, a small man came in and started ushering them out.

"I need to prepare for Ms. Derevko's mission presentation." Everyone stood.

"No prob, Mr.-" Gabs squinted to read his nametag. "-P. Onn. We'll be out of your way in a second." P. Onn nodded gratefully, then seated himself at the computer in front of the room. Gabs and Demon exchanged looks. 

"Irina must be here," Gabs said, always happy to state the obvious. Demon nodded.

"Wonder what took so long? We were here at least 10 minutes before she was." Gabs shrugged and, unseen to either of them, Harley and Monica rolled their eyes. The 5 made the trip to Irina's office. On the way, Sark had one last question pertaining to Harley's botched mission.

"What, precisely, are the Walls of Jericho you mentioned?" In her office, Irina heard the question and winced. Harley grinned to Sark.

"Well, it's a wrestling submission maneuver, where you lock the legs- it's a bit hard to explain. I can demonstrate if you want." After a moment of thoughtful contemplation, Sark nodded his assent. Harley suddenly grabbed his legs just below the knees and pulled them out from under him. He landed roughly on his back, and Harley turned him so he was on his stomach and she was stretching his legs and back. Sark groaned but, impressively, refrained from screaming. 

"Tap out," Gabs whispered. Confused, Sark tapped his hand on the ground frantically. A moment later, Harley dropped his legs, and his left knee hit the ground forcefully. Harley smiled pleasantly.

"So, now you know the Walls of Jericho." She motioned towards Irina's office with her head. "Shall we?" Sark struggled to his feet and followed the four. 

They found Irina behind her desk, waiting patiently. After sparing Sark a sympathetic glance, she instantly leveled her gaze on Gabs and Demon. 

"Do you guys know what a speed limit is?" They exchanged confuzed looks.

"Yeah. They're just really difficult to follow," Demon noted.

"Really? I hadn't noticed," Irina said dryly.

"It's just that none of our cars can go that fast," Gabs complained. This drew a confused silence, during which Demon looked around at all the blank faces in the room.

"You can't go that fast?" Gabs shook her head sadly and Demon picked up the sad tale.

"Like this morning, when we caught up with you, we were barely managing 8 miles per hour! And when we left, we only hit 11 or 12."

"Are you sure it wasn't 120?" Irina asked. Demon shook her head. 

"Nope, no zero. In fact, neither of our cars can go above 15. So, you see why we can't hit the speed limit?" Irina nodded.

"Of course. It all makes sense now," she said, making a mental note to get their speedometers fixed.

"I see the tales I have heard in regards to your less than stellar driving abilities have not been exaggerated," Sark said. Gabs and Demon looked at him. 

"Less than stellar?" Demon repeated.

"Dude, we are sooo overly stellar! We've had our new cars for almost a week, and they have hardly any scratches on them!" Gabs proclaimed. Demon nodded in agreement.

"That's gotta be some kind of record," she said proudly.

"Hey, I'm impressed," Harley piped in.

"It's better than the last 6 pairs of cars you guys have bought. Or stolen. Or whatever," Monica added. All conversation ceased as Irina's phone rang.

"Yes? Ok. Thank you." She looked up at her 4 agents as she set the phone down. 

"The conference room is prepped. It's time for your next mission."

I promise, I'm still working on 'The Man At the Bar,' but I'm kinda stuck on that one these days. Not to mention the million other story ideas I have… including one where Syd becomes convinced that she's actually Xena… so yeah. Whatever. Review and I'll love you forever! And Demon will like you to some extent!


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